An American Tune: A Novel

14 “Our House”

141 “Our House” She would go through the day, moment by moment, the way she had taught herself to do. Live each moment fully. The sun pouring in through the open kitchen window, catching the prisms dangling among the plants to cast rainbows on the wall. The white bowl of blueberries on the oak table, yellow butter on a blue and white dish. Waffles steaming, the smell of coffee. Charlie and Claire upstairs, getting ready for breakfast. Astro sleeping at her feet. She would not think about the man who had called out “Jane” the day before. She’d been so rattled, turning toward him, that she hadn’t really seen his face. He had a beard, she remembered that. A ponytail.Scruffy,butclean.Hewasofaverageheightandthin,almost emaciated. A smoker’s voice. She wouldn’t think about how she had felt walking away from him. Her legs heavy, her whole body suddenly overtaken by exhaustion –and the headache she’d pretended that morning starting up behind her eyes. The panicky little voice in the back of her mind saying again and again, “You told him your name. He knows what your name is.” Finally, blessedly, the sidewalk had turned toward the Union and carried her out of his sight. Moments later, she sat down on the low wall that ran along the back of Dunn Meadow to collect herself. 14 142 An American Tune It was shady there, the air fresh and green beneath the stand of sheltering trees. There was a platform in the meadow, where longhaired boys were setting up sound equipment. People were covering tables with bright tie-dye cloths in preparation for the summer festival that would begin that afternoon; there was a striped tent for concessions. Students milled on the grass, some lay entangled on blankets, books and notebooks abandoned. Others played Frisbee, threw sticks for their dogs. From where she sat, Nora could see the big white Sigma Chi house on the corner of Seventh and Indiana, its steps painted blue and gold. She looked away. Still, she couldn’t help remembering walking down those steps with Tom, on their way to class, to a dance somewhere, to the Pizzeria. “Nora–” “Oh!” Her hands flew up and she stepped backwards, into Charlie ’s arms–and back into her kitchen. “Caught you,” he said. “Daydreaming.” She let him hold her, hoping he wouldn’t notice how hard her heart was beating or that she was making an effort to breathe evenly to curb her irritation at him for surprising her. Itwasn’thisfault,Noraremindedherself:whathedidn’tknow.He thoughtherrestlessnessthesepastmonthswasallaboutClairegoing away. He’d been restless himself. Countless times she’d heard him remind their daughter of what one of her teachers said the first day of their senior year. “Be kind to your parents when they get weird. They can’t help it. They can’t believe you’ve grown up, and they’re looking ahead, already missing you.” Claire was probably sorry she’d told them, laughing, at dinner that night. Of course, that was part of it. Nora had already begun to avoid Claire’s room, the clothes in little piles where she’d stepped out of them, shoes kicked a few feet away, books and sheet music piled on every free surface. And, worse, plastic crates filled with sheets and towels,laundrysupplies,bathsoap,shampoo–thingsshe’dbeencollecting since June to take to college. The sight of her in the kitchen doorway now, fresh from the shower,piercedNora’sheart.Herblondhairwasstillwet,closetoher head in perfect ringlets. An hour in the sun and she’d look like a girl 143 “Our House” inapre-Raphaelitepainting.Sheworecargoshortsandanorangetee shirt that said “Sleeping Bear Dunes” on the front and “Ask Me about Canoe Rentals” on the back. A woven bracelet on her wrist, exactly like the one her boyfriend, Dylan, wore. She smelled like flowers. Norasetthefirstbatchofpancakesonthetable,andClairesmiled at her. “Poor Mom,” she said. “Is your headache gone? Do you feel better this morning?” Nora nodded. “Honey, I’m really sorry about yesterday. Not helping you register.” Claire rolled her eyes. “Please. I told you. It would only have been worse if you were there. I’d have been horrible to you and Dad. God. Dylantoldmeitwouldbeawful,youjusthadtogutitoutanddoitthe first time, but I had no idea! He said he and his parents didn’t speak for two days afterwards. There was this kid next to me with his aunt and, I swear, he was the...